


I Have Considered the Lilies, I Have Considered How They Grow

by kittensnakes



Series: Catrouble Arc [4]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romantic Fluff, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 4 Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i hate them, minor twink hate, theyre so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29338458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensnakes/pseuds/kittensnakes
Summary: A fluffy morning between two semi-lovers who don't know how to express their feelings.
Relationships: Catra/Double Trouble (She-Ra)
Series: Catrouble Arc [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083059
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	I Have Considered the Lilies, I Have Considered How They Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone: oh hey! you should write Dt transforming into Adora-  
> Me: *shoots* no <3
> 
> PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU anyways hi everyone heres more of my catrouble s4 agenda that we all begrudgingly like. I want you to know I can't stop, BUT I do have a special something for catradora coming up on valentines day, very exciting business. also, as always, several wips for varying ships. 
> 
> I feel like She-ra has ran its course for being a good fandom which is just heartbreaking. I'll probably pop out a few more pieces then finally give spop a rest, but who knows- I hyperfixated on steven universe for a solid four/five years, yeah. 
> 
> Anyways i really hope you enjoy- i work really hard on these pieces and id really appreciate a kudos and a comment, even if it was about how your day was- i would love to know.

Double Trouble wishes they could say the sun filtered across the room, illuminating the soft sheets, and glowing on their skin, curse their lizard instincts for wanting it to such a degree. It was cold, the sheets barely fit their frame but the warmth at their chest was welcoming. 

She twisted in their arms briefly, mouth barely kissing at the crevice of their neck. They kept their hand around her waist and stared up at the metal ceiling, keeping a close ear on the count of her breathing and hoping maybe it would lull them back to sleep. But it couldn’t, they were wide awake, their heart rocked slowly in their chest, seeming to hit at their narrow ribs as crisp air from the vents filled into their lungs. It rattled, their veins and bones, they figured it was one of those days where thoughts rested heavy on them. 

From what they know, she probably has never seen a thread count over fifty, nor never had a bedroom with a window, and never lived in a place that didn’t reek of sewage and wasn’t, technically, a scrap-metal dumping ground. They’ve seen her in the sun, she looks great in it. Her fur gets a tint of gold and they know she’s sweating, likely, but there’s a dewy glow to her. 

Curse her and her shit personality, she’s beautiful, they think. Even when she growls at them, nearly splits soldiers in two when they don’t get her first commands, and nearly slices anyone who tries to be friendly. Since they heard it, that sigh she thinks nobody hears after she gets her squadron together, and that high-peeled, squeaky laugh that comes after a hundred attempts to get her to smile. They’ll call whatever this thing they have with Catra _learning,_ learning how to become someone like her. Someone with an inheritance of good that quickly turned evil for the sake of independence.

All odds are against her, they see it, she holds herself with it. Yet, still, they wouldn’t define her as evil, perhaps not without another few hundred pushes. She’s gotten as far as she has, impressively, with biting her tongue and strategizing carefully what moves she can make when, only acting on those for revenge and survival. She’s just a little lost, but still, no need to be an asshole.

Even now, she looks great in the tin darkness of the room. Her fuzzy body slunked against theirs, nothing withholding them from taking their hand down their back. Serpentine hand looked great against tawny fur, darkened at the sides and down the vertebrates of her back. It’s a bit softer the lower you get, less of a chance for it to be brittle and matted from war, her stomach is lightly dusted with white like powdered sugar and somehow she tasted even _better._

Double Trouble mentally recorded the sounds she made the night and played it back to themself into the early hours of the morning, even now it’s toyed in the back of their mind, scratched and repeated as they twirl her fur around their fingers. They remember every detail on her face from when she came, mirrored it internally so they could play on it too, one day. They saw how she broke apart, twisting their tongue around her clit while studying her, watching her convulse. 

Such dirty thoughts for so early in the morning, they figured, anyways, they hated tracking military time. They would slink into her room after lights out, opting to stay with her instead of the sweaty, grimey barracks. She yelled at them at first, still tense and on guard around them, still struggling to understand them. Eventually, they threw her a bone and kissed her till she stopped questioning them. It comes hand-in-hand, if Double Trouble isn’t going back to Brightmoon to fuck with some fairies, they’re with her, “brainstorming.” 

And they really don’t mind. At all. She has never looked better than this, curled into them, quiet, still, and almost at peace minus the occasional twinge on her sleeping face or twitch of her ear. 

Her face is against their chest, nestled in their neck, heat radiating off her, and onto them; it was a nice, unfamiliar warmth for both of them. Of course, they’ve done this before- Catra would never call it for what it is: comfort, though, they never took it personally, or tried to anyways. After nights of calculatingly taking her apart and piecing her back together, letting her do the same to them, it was a little difficult not to take the lack of label personally, but they understood. 

It was hard to describe labels in the Horde, it was easy to dig up that Catra was an orphan, and so was the rest of her squadron. Every last one of them didn’t know what parents even were, good for them, they figured, they knew what happened to families when soldiers didn’t come back- it’s better that they have nowhere to go after the war. 

A soft grunt from Catra cuts them away from their train of thought, they can’t help but focus all of them onto her, willing her to wake up or stay in deep slumber. They couldn’t decide what would be better. On one hand, Catra would be pissed for letting her sleep in (even though they couldn’t tell what time it was with all those unneeded numbers), but maybe the sleep would be so beneficial to her that she wouldn’t try to claw their eyes out. 

Plus, they were freezing, might as well use her sleeping body as a heating pad while they could, right? They curl more into her, bending on their side slightly to give their tail headway to mingle with hers. It sent a rush down their spine, a little euphoria behind their eyes. Their tail wasn’t as dexterous as hers, nor limber, and was more for balance and the sake of biological fashion, they figured. They always admired her tail, how it would interact with the world the way she wanted to, leaving a chaste print on everything she passed. They wish she would just cut to the chase and be herself, with that shrill laughter they could pull out of her every now-and-then. They held themselves to the strong belief that Catra would be so much _brighter_ if she wasn’t the Commander of an oppressive regime, all she needed was a little push. 

All in good time, for now, they could just take in the amazing tail cuddles- her fur felt like heaven against their scales. 

But, this wasn’t a relationship. This was a study. A payment plan. A roof over their head. No need for them to be prying into the inner sanctums of her mind, aside from studying her, whatever they’re doing now- watching her in her sleep and reading the ever growing eyebags like a book- is strictly prohibited. 

Though they did love breaking the rules, a smile creeps onto their face as they feel the tip of Catra’s tail wrap around theirs. Her breath growing shallow as she starts to wake up, her face growing taut as she stirs, Double Trouble moves their hand down to her lower back when an idea strikes them.

Might as well make sleeping in worth it. 

They wrap their hand fully around the slender trunk of her tail. She must have felt it coming because they heard her breath hitch, but she didn’t do much than remain tense, trembling slightly as she lay across their torso. They almost didn’t expect her to react the same they would if someone touched their tail like this, with being different species and all, but the way that she’s shaking is more than enough for them. They release their grip and stick to scratching just above the base of her tail, hearing her groan lightly as they tease a little harder.

“Goodmorning, kitten,” they murmur playfully, all that comes out of her is a small _mmmrrrr,_ a purr revving up in her chest. They don’t know if she’s quite awake, maybe in between states, they wait a moment more before pulling her tail lightly.

This time she _mewls._ Oh, joyous day. 

Catra’s face tense as they continue their ministrations, hand going against the grit of her fur, up and down, slowly, drawing as much as they can out of her. For now, she’s shaking, her tail tightening around theirs, ears flicking and twitching every few seconds.

“Are you up now, kitten?” they sigh in her hair.

They feel Catra tilt her head slightly, her lips curling against their scales, “s’nice way to wake up.”

Double Trouble nearly gasps at the softness in her voice, lips pulled into a shit-eating grin easily after they hear her.

“Shut up,” she mutters, moving her hips up into their hands, “don’t stop.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Catra to under them, moaning out for them, and writhing under their touch, but it was a rarity for her to openly ask for what she wants, and do it so nicely, that part was absolutely unknown. 

“Can I get a _“please?”_ they start scratching again, digging their knuckles into the base of her tail and they know she’s biting back a mewl now that she’s awake.

 _“Please,”_ they nearly explode. It’s unheard of for her to be like this, not even with Scorpia, who eventually gave up and left mysteriously. They don’t know if she’s ever even said the word, it comes out so reedy and quiet it could be her first time asking for such a thing. 

Double Trouble shouldn’t feel as blessed as they do to hear it; they tug her tail again, not hard enough to hurt but enough to coax a louder reaction from her. They want to say this is an additional variable to the equation they’re making against her but it feels like they’ve turned on _themself_ at this point. 

She finally lifts her head from their neck, waiting a split second before pressing her mouth against theirs, stifling another sighing mewl with their lips. They shakily breathe against her as she moves her head back down to their neck. Her hand ghosts over their hips, passing them and moving along her tail. They can feel her nails press against their scales, they hiss slowly, _“downwards.”_

“Sorry,” she mutters, her hand pauses momentarily, clearly on the nearing trunk of their tail, she gently trails her hand down- sliding down with the growth of their scales. It’s their turn to stifle a sound. “I didn’t know you could actually feel stuff down there.”

“Of course, I’m part-lizard, not made out of stone,” it comes out breathy, higher-pitched when Catra starts back up at the base of their tail.

“You’re right, I think Rogelio really liked it when he was younger,” she continues, sighing as they pull at her tail.

“Is he that hunky lizard guy who has a thing for the twink?” they ask.

“Rogelio? You think he has a thing for _Kyle?”_ she responds in disbelief, that is such a twink name.

“And you said you grew up with them- they give each other total heart eyes whenever you go on one of your “ _Destroy the Rebellion”_ rants.” 

“It’s probably looks of disbelief- honestly I don’t believe half the shit I say anymore,” as soon as it comes out, Catra tries to swallow it back in- their eyes widen as they watch her gulp down that truth that was about to follow the statement, piecing it all together as she does so.

Oh. Okay. So she knows, maybe she isn’t as dumb as they thought she was. Still, if she knows she doesn’t believe in it- why bother staying? Putting so much energy, not love, into something you hate?

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” she mutters, pushing herself away, “they really can’t bother with heating huh.”

“It’s probably against the safety code,” they say slyly, acting the same as she, like whatever she said never happened.

“There _is_ no safety code!” she gets up, exclaiming as she yanks on those tiny little biker shorts she wears, following with those stupidly cut thigh highs, her tits still out in the open, nipples exposed to the air, “you know how many times I sliced my toe open from the metal panelling?” 

“Maybe you should wear shoes, then,” and maybe something less revealing, to be honest, they’re a little distracted with how her tits bounce as she struggles to put on her clothes fast enough.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she stops.

“Like what?”

“Like- like that,” a blush dusts her freckles, “otherwise I’m not gonna get my work done.”

“You got a crush on me, kitten?” They raise their brow.

“No!” Her gaze shoots down to the floor, “shut up!”

“Ooh, kitty has a crush on her employee?” they fuck around with her, a loud smirk very obviously playing on their lips, Catra doesn’t bother responding- pretending to busy herself with fastening her top. “Well maybe her employee has a crush on their employer too.”

Catra pauses, a small laughter rips from her core as she shakes her head, choosing not to say anymore as she moves to her desk to put on that godforbid headgear, hasn’t been Double Trouble’s favorite accessory but it fit her well, like a tiara for a very unconventional princess. Honestly, they wouldn’t be surprised if she was one in another life- she was stunning, too stunning to be here. 

“You’re such an asshole,” she chuckles half-heartedly, already at the door while Double Trouble is still nude, “I expect a report on the princesses by sundown, you should head out soon.”

She doesn’t let them respond, leaving chastely. They watch her tail curl around the door before it finally slips out to follow its master. They let out a slow exhale, keeping their eyes on the door before bouncing their gaze up to the ceiling, they really had to make a plan for Catra, soon, otherwise they’d get more attached to her than they already are.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading! hope i convinced you enough to come aboard my multishipper spop cruise line, this is as much emotional intelligence you'll get from either of them for awhile. drop your suggestions for them but i stg if its dt turning into adora i will smack u upside the head.
> 
> (yes) (i have considered it) (im too prideful in my beliefs to write it tho) (but more angst to come)


End file.
